


Replacement Catalyst

by Celeste06



Category: borderlands 2 - Fandom
Genre: Daddy Kink, Jack is a creep, Other, but in an even more sick way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celeste06/pseuds/Celeste06
Summary: Jack fucks you up. That’s pretty much it.





	1. Chapter 1

You groan as Jack kicks you in the gut, your body flopping to the side helplessly. What you can see of the man's masked face is twisted in rage. Lilith floats above you, suspended in the air, her wings outstretched in agony like a pinned butterfly. This is not how it was supposed to go.  
You were supposed to avenge Roland, rescue Lilith, and keep Pandora from being razed by Handsome Jack's monstrous alien. You had survived the explosive train ride and slaughtered countless monsters, bandits, and Hyperion goons to get to this point. You'd lost friends, and sacrificed your own humanity to save Pandora.  
This is not supposed to happen. You're not supposed to be beaten down by Handsome Jack before the Warrior is awakened. Jack had overwhelmed you with digital clones, wrist lasers, and one hell of a shotgun. All the while slinging insults that would make a bandit king blush.  
You lay, trampled in the ashy dirt of this god forsaken mining site. It feels as though every bone in your body aches. Your nose dribbles blood, and your chest heaves as you try to take in as much overheated air as possible. You muscles feel like lead, you're too heavy to move. Jack had jabbed some kind of slag syringe into your side after blowing your shield apart with his legendary gun. Because of course he has a legendary gun.  
The man, the myth, the legend himself looms triumphantly over you, a vicious sneer on his face. He looks like he's about to say something when Lilith lets loose a heartbroken scream.  
"No! The key is charged!"  
Jack jerks around to glance at the hovering siren, then turns back to you. A wide leer bares every one of his shining white teeth at you, he cackles raucously, clutching at his stomach in an exaggerated laughing fit.  
You glare up at him, waiting for him to finish as he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye like an asshole.  
He crouches down next to you abruptly, lifting your chin with his finger. You flinch, after hearing his voice plague you across Pandora, it's strange to see and feel the flesh and blood behind it. He snorts, "Wow, you really disappointed me kiddo." In a mockingly tender way, he brushes your damp hair out of your face.  
"Your friends are dead. Your life is ruined. You're literally two minutes away from taking a dirt nap, and you fucked up the one mission you'd set out to complete all along."  
His voice grows more gleeful as he goes on, taking an obvious joy in your crestfallen expression.  
He raises the shotgun, cocking it once more, you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable barrage of agony that's sure to come. Bang!  
There's a shriek from above you and blood rains down from on high like something out of a religious text. Lilith hits the ground heavily, smearing blood across the volcanic rock that catches her, none too gently. He...he shot Lilith. Why?  
"N...no." You croak, reaching out towards the downed siren with a trembling hand. Jack steps on your hand, grinding it into the ground for a few moments, a crazed grin plastered on his face.  
"Lilith, bitch that she is, wasn't a very obedient little siren." He tosses the gun to the side and crouches down again, gathering you in his arms to hoist you bridal style, onto a nearby digistructed table.  
He pushes you down roughly when you struggle, and grabs at the lapel of your jacket. "Lucky me, there happens to be yet another siren just wandering around somewhere on this shit hole of a planet."  
You blanch, your face going white with fear and your squirming increases in vigor. Jack reaches into his back pocket and pulls out another syringe, stabbing it into the meat of your thigh and pushing down on the plunger. He eyes you knowingly, a strange smile on his face.  
The Handsome Hero leans down to brush his lips against your ear. "That's it...just relax, there's no use in fighting now, you're fucked and you know it." His voice dips into a low and intimate baritone that sends a thrill of terror down your spine. "Just let it happen, you piece of bandit trash."  
There's a loud tearing noise as he rips your shirt open, baring what should have been your damp, heaving chest. Jack does so calmly, with a look of righteous, smug, anger. The drug he's forced into you makes your head spin and you whimper softly before you can stop yourself. Your whole body tingles and you feel like you might pass out.  
Handsome Jack sees the faraway look in your eyes and slaps you roughly. Forehand, then a backhand for good measure. His hand is heavy and large, you can already feel your stinging cheeks start to swell.  
"No, no, no, you don't get to back out now," he growls, tugging your shoes and socks off as he goes, "my baby girl had to suffer while she was still conscious and so do you."  
His eyes are cold and hard. There's no remorse or shame in them.  
Jack looks momentarily puzzled, eyes raking over the under armor you wear beneath your layers. He stares into your eyes as he tugs the glove you wear on your right hand off. Your fingers twitch in the hot air and you swallow back a horrified groan. Great. Now he knows.  
Swirling blue marks arc around your fingers and palm, gliding down into the bodysuit. You can see Jack's chest rise and fall rapidly as he reaches, almost reverently, to pull the sleeve up. The tattoos don't stop. They swim up your arm and climb your chest, diving down your collar bone to carve an ethereal path down the entire right side of your body.  
Like a man possessed, Jack pries a knife from inside his suit and shreds the under armor open. He stares at the freshly bared marks with a ravenous look in his eyes.  
"You're a siren."  
He grins darkly at you, running a calloused palm slowly over your stomach. "You're a fucking siren, aren't you cupcake?" He slams his hands down on either side of your head, pinning you. He leans down close, making sure you feel every word. "I've already avenged my daughter, but you know what, that's not enough." His breath is hot and heavy as it gusts over your ear. "You're going to replace what has been taken from me...I'm going to make your life a living hell."  
He draws away to see frightened tears drop down your bruised cheeks.  
He runs a finger slowly along your face. "Shh...shh, it's okay baby, daddy's got you." He's sick, twisted, there's no rhyme or reason as to why he's treating you like a little kid...almost as if...you're his...child. Like Angel.  
Jack’s not done with you yet, evidently. His big warm hands are slow and only slightly shaky as he runs over your hips to rest at your belt. You squirm helplessly and toss your head to the side, whimpering hoarsely. “That feel good baby?” Jack murmurs, grabbing your chin so that you're forced to look at him, into his mismatched eyes.  
“No, please, Jack don't…” you whisper, your voice quavering with repressed tears.  
Jack glares at you sternly, his hands squeezing at your hips with a bruising pressure. “You didn't listen to my pleas, you just went on ahead and murdered my precious Angel.”  
To be continued;


	2. Mortar Assault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting close to the actual assault. I like to draw out the suspense for an unnecessarily long amount of time. This chapter is a filler for the real juicy stuff.

Jack demands every ounce of your attention, as though you’d be able to focus on anything else what with his...molestation of you. When you squirm sluggishly he seems pleased. He knows he’s having an effect on you.   
The weight of the hand on your hip sinks lower abruptly, squeezing your crotch in an iron grip. You manage a reedy cry of horror at the realization of what he’s about to do. Handsome Jack smiles. It’s not a kind smile.  
“See, I know you can take pain, I’ve seen you do it countless times all the fucking way across Pandora.” His touch turns almost clinical as he sits up to slip his finger through your belt loop and tug. “I’ve got this theory, pumpkin, that I’ve wanted to try out for a while now”, he pauses dramatically, and like the broken mess that you are, you cling to every word. “It hurts you, more than a bullet wound when I do this.”   
Jack scrapes his blunt nails down your now bare chest, sneering as you whine like a kicked puppy. Before you can summon up a smarmy retort, Jack bares down again, licking a hot stripe over the long pink lines. It burns...but it feels agonizingly good. You hate yourself for being unable to stop the startled moan that slips past your lips. Jack grins and chuckles darkly at the conflicted look on your face. “You’ll be begging me to touch you once I-“ he stops himself suddenly.  
You think he’s second guessing himself, but he just laughs. “Oops, almost spilled the secret...ohh kitten, you have no idea what you’re going to suffer through.” Both hands are back at your waist and he’s crushing your hips together swiftly. Your gasp morphs into an embarrassingly high pitched whimper. You’re disgusted with yourself. Ugh...at least the other Vault Hunters aren’t here to witness your humiliation.  
Jack starts to grind his hips steadily against yours, that stern frown never leaving his masked face. It’s almost...paternal. You gag at the thought. “There we go, that’s what I wanna see. Ha! I knew this’d hurt you more than any gun ever could. God I’m such a genius.”   
Once he’s done patting himself on the back, his frown returns and his mismatched eyes drift from your face down your body. You realize he’s not quite checking you out when he runs his thumb over your lower belly, along some of the blue marks there. Meanwhile, you’re trying to shove back the unwanted arousal that pulses through you with every sway of Jack’s hips.   
He notices. Because of course he does. His frown twitches at the corners like a wolves’ snarl. “Aww, is little baby getting off on daddy grinding on them?” He bucks his hips against yours brutally, forcing his half-hard erection against your already aching cunt. You squeal hoarsely as he nearly bends you in half, forcing you to arch up off of the impromptu table.  
Jack’s smile is serpentine as he finally drops his hands to your pants, ignoring your pleas entirely. He starts to tug the zipper down slowly, pinching it between his thick fingers and staring into your eyes all the while. He wants to etch your terrified, flushed face into his mind. You’ll never be able to forget this as long as you live. You can scrub yourself raw with steel wool and you’ll never be able to rid yourself of the memory of his touch. He wants to hurt you just as badly as you’ve indirectly hurt him. Nothing is going to stop Handsome Jack from exacting his sweet revenge.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry this isn’t the last of this fic. I’m going to make this into a series.

Before your reeling mind can escape the cold grip of terror he continues. The Handsome Hero takes his time unzipping your jeans, keeping a firm hand pressed against your throat in warning. You don’t really see a point. There will be no struggle, the strong haze of whatever drug he’s injected into you makes sure of that.   
Your legs dangle off the edges of the table and idly you can feel the heat of the encroaching lava that surrounds the two of you. It bubbles and hisses hellishly in the background. A hysterical grin creeps across your face, your addled mind filling in the blanks as quickly as it can. This might as well be hell, and you’re being assaulted by none other than the Devil himself.   
Jack slides your belt out of your pants, there’s a twinkling in his eyes that suggests malevolent genius. He’s got an idea. His hair sticks up wildly from its usual well kept coiff like horns. Jack pops the last button and quickly yanks your jeans off of you, as a last fuck you, he throws them into the lava where they sizzle dejectedly.   
“You won’t be needing those anymore, at least not until you learn to behave.”   
He pats your cheek condescendingly, even as he slips his hand into your underwear while you’re trying not to cry for fear of being hit again. You gasp and kick as violently as you can. His hand is so warm, it sends an absurd amount of blood rushing down to your hips. You whimper before you can stop yourself. Jack just laughs.  
“Easy kitten, there’s a good siren.”  
His eyes now have a dark, hungry glint. Jack starts to slide a finger gently against your folds, locking eyes with you. The heat of the surrounding magma is nothing compared to the sheer intensity of Handsome Jack. His very presence is smothering, and you find yourself being drawn in despite the obvious warning signs. Jack has an animal magnetism to him that very few people possess. The difference between him and those like him is that he knows his power. You’re a moth and he’s the flame.  
The drug helps you slip deeper into yourself, wipes away the hatred and poise you normally have. You whimper and your hips jolt against Jack’s hand as he presses an insistent finger against your entrance.   
“Holy fuck kiddo, you’re already soaked and I haven’t even done anything yet; God you’re pathetic.”   
He accentuates the last word with a stab of his finger, pushing into you abruptly. You cry out, a few tears finally sliding down your bruised cheeks. This makes you clench up around Jack’s finger and he growls. He goes from half-mast to full in the blink of an eye.  
“You like that you little slut?”  
He snarls, his voice hard and low. The previous venomous joviality is gone. Raw anger has taken its place.   
“Bandit trash like you needs to be controlled, to be tamed, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, you’re my bitch. And I’m. Never. Letting. You. Go.”  
He pumps his finger in and out of you quickly, pushing as deep as he can. You cry out, trying to squeeze your thighs together and stop him. Or at least slow him down.  
Jack stops to pull his finger out, he brings it to his lips absentmindedly and tastes it. Tastes you. You tremble with unwanted arousal, your breath coming in quick gasps. You haven’t spoken a word, save for the small needy noises coming from your parted lips.   
Jack ignores you, he glances down and starts to undo his pants. The jingle of a belt coming undone and the telltale sound of a zipper alert you to what he’s going to do next.   
“N-no please…” you say, your voice sounding embarrassingly high pitched and breathy, even to your own ears.   
Jack smiles again, smoothing his hand over your marked thigh in a sick parody of a lovers gesture. “Now you’re the one begging,” he pulls his dick from his briefs and positions himself in a passionless way, pressing the head against your pussy. In another act of astounding cruelty he grips your hips and leers at you.  
“This is for Angel.”  
You don’t have time to scream or even feel disgust. Handsome Jack thrusts into you smoothly, easily penetrating your barely prepped walls. You make a hoarse squeaking sound, and slam your head back against the table. “Ah!”   
Jack pistons his hips slowly, making sure you feel every thrust. Bolts of searing pleasure course up your stomach and you find yourself moaning loudly into the over heated air. Jack cackles like a madman.   
“That’s it kitten, scream for daddy!”   
In brutally deep and even thrusts that knock the breath out of your lungs, he fucks you against the table, as if he were trying to murder you through sex alone. It doesn’t take much of this treatment until you’re sweating and writhing against your hated enemy, mewling his name as he pounds into you over and over again.   
The pressure in your hips continues to build, pleasure sticking to your brain like honey. Jack has grabbed one of your legs to hold you up, thrusting violently into you from a different angle. You realize that his own release isn’t what he’s looking for. He’s going to force you to orgasm, whether you like it or not.  
Coherent thought escapes you and you wail like a skag pup. Jack doesn’t slow down, doesn’t seem to be getting tired. His hair hangs over his face and there’s a snarl on his lips. He goes faster. Harder. Deeper. Making you scream with every twitch of his hips.  
You’re not going to last much longer. Jack pounds against your sweet spot relentlessly, using his free hand to pinch your clit.   
You come. Your marks finally light up, bathing the two of you in a blinding light. White light. Like hers. Your mind fizzles out to a tiny dot of awareness, and you’re fading fast. Just before you pass out Jack’s face hovers above you. His face is wrought with shock and anguish.   
“Angel?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Discontinued due to lack of interest


End file.
